Be Still
by generationloki
Summary: Loki has a horrible nightmare. Set 10 months after "Here With Me". WARNING: Character death within a nightmare. PART 3 OF ? READ "HERE WITH ME" FIRST


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so here's the deal, guys. There will be many, many one-shot sequels of this verse, but they are not lineal. They are at random points in Tony and Loki's lives together. For example, this one is set a few months after, but the previous was set twenty years afterward.**

**There will be both prequels and sequels and from all kinds of point of views.**

**And really, if you have any requests or anything you want to be explored- message me on my Tumblr or leave a comment below!**

**Enjoy :)**

**_I am also tagging this Major Character Death because a death does occur in this._**

* * *

**TEN MONTHS AFTER THE EVENTS OF "HERE WITH ME"**

_"If you ever feel you can't take it any more_

_Don't break character_

_You've got a lot of heart_

_Is this real or just a dream?_

_Rise up like the sun_

_Labour till the work is done_

_Be still"_

- "Be Still" by the Killers

* * *

The wind was rushing through his hair, echoing in his ears. Heavy metal music pounded from the car's stereos, making Loki's head throb with adrenaline and a slight headache.

He looked over to his big brother and saw him laughing heartily. He wore dark sunglasses and his long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, whereas Loki wore no sunglasses and his black hair was left to slip around his face.

The two not-brothers were very different, but got along better than anyone they had ever known.

Thor spied Loki looking over to him, and gave him a bright grin. "Having fun, brother?" He bellowed over the roar of the engine.

"Quite," Loki shouted back, turning down the music.

Thor lifted his foot off the pedal of his Jeep, lowering the roar to a gentle purr. "I am glad that we're taking this weekend," Thor said. He lifted his glasses to rest upon the crown of his head, keeping his eyes glued to the road in front of him. "Work has been stressful on the both of us. Surely you agree?"

Loki's mind wandered back to the large pile of unread essays on his desk at their home. He had been dragged into the car only hours later, with their bags already packed and loaded. A "mystery holiday", Thor had so originally named it. Loki had snorted at the idea at first, but deep inside he was glad to get away from the frankly idiotic students in his year 10 History class and the tedious and futile flirting from the female teachers.

"Yes," Loki settled on. "Stressful, indeed. Especially for a freelance journalist who hasn't had a job in months such as yourself. Life must be so difficult, lazing around on a couch all day with only re-runs to entertain," he drawled, cracking a smile.

Thor lightly shoved Loki to the side, making his smirk turn into a shit-eating grin. "Stop it, you."

Loki shrugged and leant back in his passenger seat, closing his eyes and humming. He folded both of his lean arms behind his head. Despite the warm, sunny weather, he wore a long-sleeved shirt as per usual. The one time he had decided upon wearing a t-shirt in public 5 years after his last relapse, all he heard were whispers and disgusted comments about the scars on his arms. Loki hadn't tried anything like that since, and his habit of pulling the sleeves of his shirt down over his wrists began again.

As they flew down the highway, Loki was whisked away by his thoughts about how his life was turning out to be. Ever since Tony had left, his life had actually gotten better—happier, more positive. He felt a grimace pull at his mouth. Tony's name still brought back horrible memories for him. The bullying, the eating disorders. But he was past that now. Thor had made sure of it.

Ah, Thor. His big brother. Well—adopted brother. But Loki thought about him as more his best friend than a sibling, especially considering that they were not related by blood whatsoever. Loki didn't like to dwell on the fact of his adoption. The event of his adoption discovery was by far distasteful at the least with his not-father, Odin, suffering from a heart attack and dying only minutes later in Loki's arms. One of the few traumatic experiences that triggered his attempt, Loki's old psychiatrist had described it as.

He wasn't quite sure, but he believed that his fifth therapist had said that. The last one he had before he finally could be a free man. The one that had helped him through the lasting effects of his suicide attempt.

Unconsciously, Loki traced his fingers over his jean-clad thighs, outlining where his scars were from the operation to put his shattered legs back together. He could almost feel the stinging ache he had come accustomed to in the months following that he had been confined to either a wheelchair or hobbling with a walking frame. Once again, he winced.

Thor cleared his throat, "Are you alright?" He asked. Loki turned to the blonde man to see him looking anxiously at him.

Loki flashed him his trademark Cheshire grin. "Of course, I am. We are on holiday, after all."

Thor nodded, smiling, and drew his attention back to the road stretching out in front of them.

He let his smile slide off his face. The younger brother couldn't believe that Thor had fallen for it yet again. After all, it was he whom had told Loki to rein his feelings in and not allow himself to appear vulnerable to others.

"Life will bite you in the ass, Loki," Thor had said to him, clutching his lethargic hand, as he lay reclined in his hospital bed, his thoroughly plastered legs suspended in slings. "You just have to burn the world before it burns you."

Loki had been too high on morphine to truly understand the meaning of his words, but after he had been discharged and suddenly had a lot of time on his hands to ponder his life, he understood.

His big brother had always been the golden son—the one everyone liked, the one whom was favoured. The stronger one. The happier one. While Loki had been only his shadow—the brother whom let his feelings control his life and his actions. The weak one. The sad one.

After that event, Loki decided that he needed to get better. And fast.

He wouldn't let his unjustified moments of sadness drive him into such a dark place again. He made an agreement with himself. If he ever felt sad, angry, depressed or the likes, he would push it down as far as it would go and keep on smiling.

_Keep on smiling_, he told himself every single day.

Loki sighed and ran a hand through his hair, marvelling at the length. It was much longer than Thor's— a fact that Thor openly detested. Loki didn't care for Thor's petty whining. After all, the blonde bimbo had been the one to suggest the hair-growing competition in the first place.

He remembered that it had only been up to his jawline in high school. He also remembered how Tony would tuck it behind his ears for him, or coil a tendril of raven hair around his forefinger when they would be talking together. Loki's heart clenched painfully when he thought of his ex-boyfriend—no, not just an ex. Not average, not normal. The love of his life.

Loki constantly thought about Tony Stark. It had been ten years since the horrific break-up that left Loki absolutely torn to pieces, but Loki's mind more often than not trailed away into the memories of him. His smooth chin with hints of a growing goatee; his warm, chocolate eyes that crinkled when he laughed. The Arc Reactor embedded in his chest, humming welcomely and comfortingly, almost beckoning to Loki.

Loki also thought about calling Tony. He had his mobile number. A woman named Pepper Potts emailed him a few days before, asking if he would like to meet up with Mr Stark. Apparently he was missed.

At first Loki was furious. He had snarled and was halfway to putting his fist through the computer screen before gathering his senses and taking out his burning anger out on Thor's punching bag. How dare she do that? How dare she ask Loki to allow Tony back in his life so casually? What he had done was unforgivable. Loki couldn't just forgive and forget. The traumatic memory of the break-up and the aftermath was scarred into his mind forever.

Tony Stark had humiliated him in front of the entire student body—that already despised him—only a few months after his parents had passed away and just two weeks after his stay at the hospital for his second bout of anorexia.

_But then again…_ Loki pondered. It would be quite lovely to see Tony again, considering their history. Loki had never been so in love in his entire life, and was positively certain that he would never feel that way about another man again.

The car slowed to a stop just in front of some traffic lights, the engine humming comfortably beneath the two brothers.

"Thor," Loki said, surprising himself.

The elder brother turned to him, shoving his sunglasses back onto the top of his head. "Yes?" Loki's mouth hung open, his voice stuttering in his throat, unable to form words. Thor laughed loudly, throwing his head back and his shoulders bobbing up and down. "I've never seen your face like that before, my brother. You look like a stunned mullet!"

Loki ignored the quip. He mentally filed away a prank to play on Thor while the latter was sleeping that night involving a bowl, his hand and some warm water. "I've… been thinking." He paused and considered his next words. "The email from Ms Potts. I think I may think about asking Tony up here. W-what do you think? I wouldn't try to get back together with him o-or anything…"

He scratched his blonde stubble, frowning. "To tell you the truth," Thor began slowly. "To say the truth, I, too, have been thinking about her offer. And I think that you should take it."

Loki was surprised at this confession. "Really? But you're the one who punched him in the face that night! You're my big brother," he complained. "You're supposed to be protective of me."

Thor let a smile play on his lips. "Of course, I'm your big brother. And I am sincerely protective of you!" He reasoned. "But, really, brother, you have been mourning over your relationship for ten years, now. Is it not time for another go at this?" Loki pursed his lips. "I will not order you to do anything," Thor said in a low voice. "I am merely suggesting that you take a shot. You've been given the offer of a lifetime. There's only one Tony Stark and he is one stubborn bastard." Thor grinned, crookedly. "He won't beg, you know."

Loki drew his eyebrows together in a thoughtful expression. "Thanks, Thor," he said. "But… but I think I might n—_Thor, look out_!" He screamed, flinging his arm out toward his brother.

There was a rumble of an engine obscenely close to them and the squealing of tires. Before either of the brothers knew what was happening, their car was rammed into by a speeding Honda from the left. Loki's stomach dropped and his head whirled as their car lifted into the air easily, turning on its side before crashing back down again then spinning over and over on the road, sending them knocking together and jerking around from their limbs being caught on the interior.

Loki's heart was pounding in his ears.

Finally, the car skidded to a stop, landing upright. The brothers' chests were heaving as they stared wide-eyed in front them, the adrenaline pulsing through their bodies.

The younger brother groaned as he felt his left arm throbbing and protesting. He looked down to see it caught between the seats. The pain was pulsating from his fingers; upper-arm and wrist that were all bent all odd angles, jammed between the leather. His side was cramping up. He knew that some of his ribs were broken too.

"Bloody, fucking hell," he gasped.

He heard Thor groan. Loki looked to his brother instantly to see him fingering his left leg, which was now encased in the car's dashboard, blood leaking out sluggishly.

Thor looked up and gave Loki a wolfish grin. Loki couldn't help it— he started to laugh. Laugh and laugh and laugh. Soon, Thor joined in. They laughed together, tears streaming down their faces from both the laughter and the pain. They were alive. They had survived again.

The two brothers—never separated. Never dying.

Never apart.

All of a sudden, their laughter was cut off. They looked out in front of them through the shattered windscreen and before they even knew what was happening, a large RV ploughed into them with the honk of a horn.

Loki lurched forward in his seat, the belt wrapping tightly around his torso before snapping off, whipping him across the face.

The front of the car crumpled like a piece of paper, the metal screaming and moaning under the pressure of the other vehicle that had braked before it caused any damage to itself. Not that Loki's mind had any time to process that.

To him, everything was moving too fast to keep track of. All he registered was the mind-blowingly loud noise of objects smashing and crashing and his brother's frantic shouting. And, of course, the pain.

Their car was propelled back to the very edge of the road, tipping over vertically and landing on the roof. Loki was pressed against the top of the car, his left arm jerking extremely painfully but still not lifting from where it was trapped in the seats. His head knocked against the roof heavily before he blacked out.

* * *

The first thing that Loki heard was a wet coughing to his left, coming from deep inside someone's chest. The darkness was fading from his eyes and he blinked sluggishly.

The coughing continued—much weaker, but coming closer into his range of hearing. He turned his head to look in the noise's direction.

Thor was sitting upright, both of his legs pinned under the dashboard so tightly that it was most likely that they were completely flattened. If they ever got out of there alive, Thor most likely would leave his legs behind.

Most of the windshield was missing and it was clear that a large chunk of it was sticking out of Thor's stomach, coated with bright red blood that was dripping off of the edges. His hands, painted as well, scrabbled desperately for purchase on the glass but it was wedged in tight. If Thor managed to yank it out, he would die of blood loss a lot quicker than if he didn't.

Thor's top half was trembling with sobs that were ripping out of his throat speedily.

Loki's heart gave a sharp tug and he tried moving closer to his big brother, but his arm was not giving way. It was stuck firmly in between the seats. He screamed in pain as he felt his possibly dislocated shoulder tear apart, and then kept as still as possible as to prevent his arm from ripping clean off. Unshed tears burned his eyes and his shoulders jolted up and down from the sobs he was suppressing. He wouldn't be able to get free.

Thor's crying rang in his ears. He looked toward him once again. Thor spat out a thick spray of dark blood. His throat bobbed up and down as he tried to work words out of his mouth.

"Lo'," he gurgled; blood spilling from his lips and trailing down his chin and neck. "Pwea… pwea, Wo'." The blood clogging up his throat was warping his voice. "_ (Please)_, it's meant to be. (_Please, Lo'_.)

"Here," Loki gasped. "I'm right here, Thor." He was struggling to keep his voice level. He had to. He had to remain calm. For Thor.

"'Oo 'kay?" His big brother mumbled. (_Are you okay?)_

Loki winced and licked his lips. His arm continued to scream at him. "My f-f-fucking arm," he panted as loud as he could. "Are you okay-_y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y_?" The last part of his sentence stretched out into a long shriek of agony as shots of pain fired down his shattered arm. Every bone in that limb had to be broken, fractured or dislocated.

There was silence. All he could hear was Thor's laboured breathing. Nothing else.

He tried to look up at Thor, but from his awkward angle, he could only partially spy him. All he could see—apart from his pained face—was Thor's hand which was up in the air and cutting from side to side weakly, indicating that—

Loki's heart leapt into his throat.

He was indicating that Thor was not okay.

Thor, the guy whom played half a football game with a fractured ankle and brushed it off as a sprain. Thor, the one who dislocated his shoulder falling from a tree and didn't say anything about it until he fainted from the pain eight hours later.

Thor's hand flopped down into his lap. He let out a much weaker groan and another wet cough.

"…'Ki?" _Loki? _Thor slurred, worry seeping into his voice. "Fin'… 'm dyin'…" (_I think I'm dying_.)

"No," Loki said, stubbornly. "No. We're going on holiday, remember?"

Thor let out a laugh masquerading as a cough. His bright blue eyes began to droop closed.

Loki shifted, biting down hard on his lower lip, drawing blood. He cried out and sobbed in pain. His arm's throbbing intensified and started howling at him to stop moving. He looked at Thor futilely.

This was worse than any other pain he had suffered. Worse than his legs shattering against pavement. Worse than the bullies beating him up. Worse than his heart failing as he suffered a seizure triggered by his anorexia.

But he didn't mean the pain in his arm. No, even worse than that.

The worst pain he could ever feel was what he felt watching his brother die right in front of him, and being unable to do anything about it.

He lifted his right arm over his body and reached toward Thor's closest hand. Loki got close but could only succeed in brushing his fingertips against his brother's.

Thor shifted over closer to him and clasped his hand as tight as he could around Loki's. Loki squeezed his hand reassuringly as a slow, weak thumb rubbed his knuckles in an effort to comfort his distressed and pained little brother.

"No," Loki whispered. Thor nodded heavily, his head dipping onto his chest. "I won't let you. No, please, Thor. No… I can't live without you. Please. I—I can't—"

"You can," Thor mumbled. Loki's bottom lip began trembling and a hard lump formed in his throat. "Know it. Know you can. Done well. Got better."

"Thor," Loki whined. "Hold on. Just a few more minutes then we'll be out of here. Please," he whispered. "Just hold on."

"'s 'kay," Thor slurred. (_It's okay)_. His breath was getting shallower. "Ma 'n fa…" (_Mother and father). He thinks he's going to see mother and father again._

Loki sobbed and clutched his brother's hand. "I can't lose you too, Thor. Please, you're my big brother. I love you, you're my world, you can't go. _Don't leave me, Thor_. _Don't you dare leave me_… I love you." Loki's frantic shouting tapered off into crying. Plump tears ran down his face. Faint sirens sounded in the distance.

"They're here!" Loki cried out, more tears spilling. "Oh, god, they're here, Thor. Just a few more minutes. Hold on for me. Keep those eyes open."

"La' 'oo 'o much, Wo'," Thor whispered. His hand slackened in Loki's grip. (_I love you so much, Lo'_.)

His last words.

Loki was now screaming at him, shrieking for him to stay with him, to not leave him alone.

Thor's body was slack, his hand a weight in Loki's palm, but still gripping his fingers. Loki shifted his hold on Thor and felt for a pulse. He frantically ran his fingers over the blood-slickened wrist in a number of different positions. The world dropped from under his feet when he felt nothing at his brother's wrist.

His big brother was dead.

His best friend.

His only friend.

Gone.

Loki's eyes glazed over and he slumped back into his car seat, not caring about his shoulder being stretched uncomfortably. He felt completely numb.

He didn't know how long he lay there, staring into space, but he came back to reality when he felt strong arms lifting him from the car.

_Thor_, he thought. _Thor's come back. He's saving me. Like always. He's come back for me_.

But it wasn't Thor.

The arms encasing him were too cold and too stiff. They were not as welcoming as Thor's embrace. He was pulled from the wreckage—_when did his arm get free_—and placed on a stiff surface. His hand was not linked with Thor's anymore and it disconnected him from the world.

All the pain he felt before was gone, leaving him numb. He felt something hard and plastic being wrapped around his neck and another softer thing being placed around his crown that prevented him from moving his head from the collar up. He was being whizzed through the air, the surface underneath him lifting up, taking him into somewhere cozy but god-forsakenly bright.

Loki sprung back to life. He tried lifting himself from the surface, but found that he was strapped down. He began to panic. His throat was closing up.

Then he heard the voice of a madman babbling. He soon realised that the pained garble was in fact his own speech. "Save… save… please save…" He slurred. His lips were stumbling over his words as the loss of blood finally took its toll.

He saw a shadow loom over him, blocking the harsh white light coming from above. Was he dead? Was this heaven? His eyes fluttered closed and he couldn't open them again for they were far too heavy. Some car doors slammed before they were moving again. Something was fastened over his face and he found himself able to breathe clearly again (_again? Hadn't he been able to breathe before?_). Air trickled down his throat and inflated his lungs that expanded into his sharp, broken ribs.

"Did… other one?" He heard voices zoning in and out. Loki struggled to zone in on the conversation.

"The… severe… before… got there. Dead…"

_Dead._

_Dead._

_Dead._

Loki couldn't remember when he had started to scream.

* * *

He felt as if he was coming up from a long dive under water. Loki sat up straight. His spine locked into an uncurving line. His eyes were squeezed shut against his environment. Cold sweat crawled down his back as he continued his long, bloodcurdling scream of agony.

As the scream faded from his throat, he tried to collapse back into his pillows but instead felt a familiar, steady hand in the middle of his back.

"Shh…" his partner shushed him quietly. "I've got you, honey… I'm here. I've got you."

Loki automatically buried himself in the crook of his neck. He let out a shuddering breath that ended in a rough sob. "Tone…" he croaked. "Nightmare."

"I know, baby," Tony murmured, carefully hugging Loki close. "You were screaming in your sleep."

Loki nodded and swallowed down his tears. His breaths were coming out in sobs and he tried to breathe deeply. "I'm sorry," he whispered after he regaining his breath. "I woke you up. Again."

"For good reason," he pointed out, nuzzling Loki's neck with his face.

Loki closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear it of the lingering memories. That was the first time he had ever fully relived the accident. Usually it came in flashes, but this time it had played out completely.

When Loki opened his eyes, he was staring at the interior of his bedroom in the townhouse. Cardboard boxes full of tools and clothes littered the carpeted ground. Confusion spread across his face before he remembered. Tony had moved in with him the previous night after nine months of being officially back together.

His head felt swollen and painful from the day before. He had had his weekly psychiatrist appointment in the morning before going to work and it had left him in a sour mood.

She had explained to him what she had done many times before: in order to get over the traumatic accident, he must begin to express his feelings instead of bottle them up. It's okay to try to see positively of situations, as his brother had taught him to do, but it's okay to feel sad about things as well.

But on a positive note, she had informed him that he was on his way to a breakthrough, no matter how painful one may be. Dr Eir explained that it could hit him at any time, at any place and when it did happen—when he finally felt his emotions harden and become real—he needed to call her.

To tell the truth, Loki was frightened of hitting the breakthrough. He was scared of what might happen. But, as usual, he pushed the worries out of his mind and continued on with his day.

Tony had openly suggested a bottle of champagne to lighten up the night and to celebrate the next step in their relationship being reached. That was a decision that Loki now regretted.

Loki pushed himself up in the bed with his one arm. Tony dragged him toward him by his waist to his bare chest, allowing Loki to rest upon the arc reactor. His boyfriend peppered kisses into his sweaty hair and trailed X's down his clammy neck.

Loki tried to relax against Tony, but he was too wound up. His hand was shaking and he was shivering all over.

"Tony," he spoke softly. Tony lifted his lips off of his neck.

"Mmm?"

"I'm going to take a warm shower," Loki decided. "I won't be able to sleep now that I've woken."

Tony sighed, "You sure that's a good idea? You said that you have some kind of staff meeting today. Come and snuggle with me and we'll catch a few Z's."

Loki gave him a small smile before he pressed a loving kiss on Tony's cheek. "I'll be fine. We have to get up in three hours, anyway."

Tony groaned and slumped back onto the bed.

Loki had returned back to his work at the local high school two months after the surgery. The doctors—especially Dr Eir—had strongly advised against it, but he disregarded their advice. Most of the staff warmly welcomed him back even though they didn't really know how to act around him at first. Some of the teachers made jokes around him. ("Where does a one armed man shop? At a second hand store!" "How do you get a one-armed man out of a tree? Wave at him.") But they quickly learnt against it when they found several snakes in their desk drawers.

The female teachers were troublesome and annoyed him to no end. They helped him with every menial task such as pouring coffee, packing up his things and even putting his coat on— everything that he was learning to do independently at his occupational therapy.

The students were even less accommodating. Someone actually had the gall to trip him in the hallway after he'd failed him in a History assessment for the third time. Loki had fallen in front of the whole ninth year, his papers flying away from him and his arm flinging out to try and cushion the fall. He sprained his wrist, making his handwriting a horror for the next week and his life a whole lot more difficult. Many of the students instantly rushed over to help him back up but that didn't excuse the little shit from tripping him up. That boy had gotten a week's worth of detention and a couple of threatening letters to sue from Tony and his—currently pregnant—assistant Pepper Potts.

Loki sighed and stood up from the bed, stretching carefully. His stomach gave a sharp tug when he remembered that Tony was right—he did have a meeting that day. It wasn't a staff meeting, though. It was with the publisher that had accepted his book and was just finishing up on doing a final edit. Loki couldn't be more delighted. All his life he wanted to publish a novel. Something he really cared about. And now he was finally being given that chance.

He glanced at the digital clock next to the bed again and started his walk to the bathroom.

"Hey, babe." Loki turned to face Tony sitting up in the bed again, his eyes blinked wearily. "I forgot to tell you that I booked those flight tickets to Cali. Next week, yeah?"

Loki nodded. "Yes, perfect. Thank you."

Tony waved a hand in recognition and slumped back down onto the bed. "My friends are excited to see you, you know," he mumbled into the mattress.

The taller man gave him a half-hearted smile but left for his shower anyway. He wasn't in the mood for talking. Not after that dream.

He turned on the taps in the shower and while it was warming up, he stripped off his pyjamas. He used to wear flannel pyjamas, but the buttons were too troublesome to do up after the surgery, so he took to wearing Tony's band shirts and boxers around the house—switching to track pants and one of Tony's hoodies when it was cold.

The steam from the shower began to fog up the bathroom, obstructing his view of the mirror. Loki leant forward, the bare skin of his navel pressing against the cold basin, and wiped off the condensation with his forearm.

Loki paused as he caught sight of his reflection. He looked awful. His bottom lip was bloodied from biting it in his sleep. His hair was dishevelled and was now well past his collarbones, now reaching the near bottom of his shoulder blades. It was getting ridiculous. He made a mental note to make an appointment at the hairdresser's. His eyes had dark circles, which were made more dramatic by the paleness of his skin.

He sighed and gave himself a small smile. At least his torso was filled out and he couldn't make out the indents of his ribcage.

This was good. His psychiatrist through the first bout of anorexia taught him to do this. Whenever Loki was to feel down about his body image, he'd stand in front of the mirror and list the things that he liked about himself. It had been hard at first but after a couple years, he started getting the hang of it.

_Well, _Loki thought. _Tony kind of likes my eyes. He says they change colour with my mood. He brushes his fingers over my cheekbones. I think he likes them, too. And he seems to like my lips. The amount of time he kisses them…_

_No,_ he stopped in his thoughts. _No, this is what _I _like about _me_. Not Tony. My self-worth will not be reliant on others._

Loki dragged his hand across his chest. He got to his stump and hesitated, before running a finger over the sensitive skin and his scars, shivering at the tenderness. He cupped the stump with his hand and ran a thumb over it slowly.

There wasn't any kind of a stub- no left over part of his arm at all. It was just smooth skin stretched over where his shoulder should have been.

He realised that he can't even remember how he looked with two arms. He gasped a breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Loki looked back up to the mirror and evaluated his body again. He felt lopsided and heavy on his right side, his remaining arm weighing him down.

Loki tore his eyes away from the mirror and stumbled over to the shower, sticking his hand underneath the spray to test the temperature. When it reached an acceptable degree, he stepped in, relishing the feeling of the warm water cascading over his tense shoulders and body.

He proceeded to wash himself, scooping water and soap over his hips, legs and back. But that was when he cracked.

His movements became more sluggish—his hands trembled uncontrollably. Loki found his breath shortening until he was gasping for air through the sobs tearing out of his throat. His knees quivered and he slid to the ground. He tried grabbing onto the shower ledge to keep him upright but it came loose and the bath products came tumbling down with him. The shower still sprayed water rapidly.

His shoulders thumped against the tiled wall as sobs wracked him. He brought his knees to his chest, balling his body up tight. He reached up to his stumped shoulder with a shaking hand and grasped it tightly—so tightly that his knuckles were going white. He jerked at the pain due to the sensitivity of the area, but squeezed tighter still.

Loki felt his jaw working up and down in a series of screams and howls.

"_Thor_," he cried out. "Please, Thor._ Come back! _Come back, I need you_. Thor!_"

He let his head drop back onto the wall as he sobbed even more loudly, not caring who could hear him.

The bathroom door slammed open and the steam from the overly hot shower rushed out. He heard the shower door slide open and then the water was gone.

But Loki didn't care.

He needed to scream. He needed to cry. He needed to punch something to let the world know how angry he was.

Why was it _his _brother? Why was it _his _arm? Why did everything always happen to _Loki_?

"Whywhywhywhywhy," he sobbed to himself. "Why me? Why Thor? I miss Thor. I need Thor. I love him, I need him."

He felt familiar arms wrap tightly around his naked body and cradle him close. He felt the thrum of the Arc Reactor pressed against his skin as he was shushed by the love of his life.

They sat together in the shower for a long time. It could have easily been an hour before Loki's crying had lessened.

His head continued to clear as his sobs faded into sniffles. Loki realised that Tony had climbed into the shower—still clothed in his wife-beater and shorts—and held Loki until he quieted down.

Loki tried mumbling an apology, but his eyelids were drooping far too low. The emotional intensity of that night really had taken it out of him. Tony shushed him and gently gathered him in his protective arms. The shorter man stood up with Loki scooped into a bridal-style carry and stepped out into the bathroom. Their skin prickled with goosebumps from the sudden cold.

Tony carried the still completely naked Loki back into their room, mumbling sweet nothings into the latter's ear. He laid down his love on the bed, keeping him in an upright sitting position.

Loki felt warm towels rubbing over him and he leant into the touch, humming appreciatively. He tensed up when the towels reached his stump, but to his pleasant surprise, they dabbed at it rather than rubbed. Usually, he would be trying to build up the toughness of the skin there by rubbing it with a rough surface, but some nights it got too sore to do so.

Fluffy blankets wrapped around him, shielding his body from the night's chill. Tony laid him down on his side, carefully, making sure he was comfortable, for which Loki was grateful.

The duvet was pulled over him and it encased him in heavenly warmth.

Tony leant down and brushed his wet, black hair back from his face. He pressed a kiss to Loki's forehead, lingering before pulling away.

Loki whimpered from the loss of contact and reached out blindly for his boyfriend.

"Tony," he mumbled. "Don't go—stay. Please." He was close to begging. He was desperate to not be alone.

He was already so alone.

He berated himself when he felt a familiar weight drop down beside him on the other side of the bed. Tony wasn't leaving him, just lying down next to him.

Loki sighed as Tony circled his arm around his waist and snuggled deeper into his warmth, craving as much bodily contact as possible. Tony's knees were pressed into the back of his, his crotch pushed into his lower back and his nose buried in the damp hair.

He pulled Tony's arm tighter around him as he felt inevitable tears rush to his eyes once again. A sob reverberated out of his throat.

He found himself asking, "Why did they all leave me? They're all gone and it's just me left. There's only me left. Only me."

Tony nuzzled into the back of Loki's neck, breathing deeply. Loki started to feel a stronger humming seeping into his back and his anxiety heightened as he instantly thought that something had gone wrong with the arc reactor.

But then he realised that Tony was humming softly into his skin, trying to calm him down.

At first Loki didn't know the tune, but then recognised it to be a song that had only first heard on the radio the other day, prompting Loki to burst into tears and groping for a hug from Tony.

Loki started whispering the lyrics along with his humming in a wobbly, breathy voice.

_"If you ever feel you can't take it any more_

_Don't break character_

_You've got a lot of heart_

_Is this real or just a dream?_

_Rise up like the sun_

_Labour till the work is done_

_Be still."_

Loki couldn't carry the notes as a hard lump had formed in his throat, obstructing his ability to articulate words. "Tony," he whispered.

"Shh, baby," Tony whispered back. "I've got you. You're not alone. I've got you now. Just go back to sleep. I'm right here."

Eventually Loki fell asleep in Tony's arms, whisked away by his boyfriend's comforting humming and the bliss of sweet human contact that he never knew he had been missing since Thor had died on that fateful day.

Loki was grateful to Thor for suggesting meeting with Tony. If he hadn't said that on the day he died, Loki would never have gotten back together with Tony.

And he wouldn't have been happy ever again.

* * *

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